


VR Necromancy

by Michevalier



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: But I can try to speculate, But I'll put this warning just in case, Character Study, Gen, Gen because romance is not that prominent, Implied Virtual Necrophilia, Mild Horror, Psychological Horror, Religious Conflict, Right?, Though we know nothing of Specter yet, might be disturbing, speculation fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michevalier/pseuds/Michevalier
Summary: Revolver went to see his assistant and during that short tea party learned about his quite... singular tastes and worldview.Specter though never considered himself a "weirdo" as he held his "doll" close.





	VR Necromancy

**Author's Note:**

> The theme of this fic may seem really controversial, but I was wondering about how so-called "dead" accounts would work in LINK VRAINS? So, apart from this being Specter's character study/pure speculation of mine, this is also some sort of Vrains universe study/speculation. And I repeat, this is purely a theory of mine!

Revolver wholeheartedly hated to enter this room. This room that was so different from any other room in their base. This room where Specter was dwelling. But, alas, what had to be done had to be done, the leader of the Knights of Hanoi had to speak to his assistant. So Revolver took a deep breath and tried to get rid of the frown on his face as he knocked.

"Yes?" tranquil voice was heard from the other side, and, before Revolver had a chance to reply, "Of course, Revolver-sama. You may enter."

He clicked his tongue and pushed the door, immediately narrowing his eyes, the stunning contrast between the whole base painted in black and Specter's snow white room made them hurt. But what irritated the leader of Hanoi even worse was how unnaturally loud his footsteps were as they echoed, reflecting from those sickeningly white tiled, like in hospital, walls. And as for hospital comparison, Revolver could have sworn that he smelled something akin to drugs even through his mask.

"Is something the matter, sir?" Specter was sitting in a big white leather chair in front of a desk with several monitors hanging above it.

"It always is as long as that Ignis is not caught," Revolver crossed his arms and ignored the politely offered chair next to his assistant's.

"There is nothing much we can do as long as Playmaker has it," the man shrugged as he watched his leader somehow absent-mindedly walking to the only window in the room.

Revolver moved the curtains, but, as he saw the view, grimaced slightly.

"Weird aesthetics do you have," he said, looking at pitch black darkness of the moonless night behind the glass and quite noticeable silhouettes of crosses and tombstones.

"I've been spending quite a lot time here lately," Specter chuckled, "so I've just decided to make this place feel a little bit more like home."

"You're living next to cemetery?" Revolver looked at him. "Must be depressing."

"I do. And windows of my room happen to face one. But not at all," the man chuckled again. "In fact, I find these types of scenery quite... relaxing. After all, the dead are resting in peace."

Revolver raised an eyebrow, staring at his assistant and his sinisterly calm face. He always thought that Specter who never liked to talk much about himself and his personal life was weird and this sort of stuff only proved it.

"Speaking of relaxation," the man pushed the chair next to him a bit in direction of Revolver as if insisting on him to take a seat, "would you like some tea or coffee, sir?" 

"Are you serious?" he huffed as he had finally accepted the invitation and sat down.

"I sure am," Specter smiled briefly as he knew about his leader's skepticism towards everything virtual. "But let's just pretend we're having an imaginary tea party, like back in childhood?"

"So you liked girlie stuff, huh?" Revolver crossed his arms as he felt a sudden prickle of discomfort.

"Why "girlie"?" his assistant smiled. "Tea parties were always normal in my family, 5 o'clock tea."

"Are you British?" suddenly, Revolver got curious as he tried to recognize at least some signs of European heritage in Specter's facial features. Yes, his VR avatar looked pretty much similar to his real-life appearance, that's why...

"Not exactly," the man as if didn't notice his interlocutor's look. "My mother though has some British blood. That's why we had the tradition of 5 o'clock tea and that's why I'm a catholic."

"You are?" for some reason Revolver had a hard time believing it.

"I am," Specter smirked. "But I apologize, we've been discussing my origins and completely forgot about the tea," all of a sudden, he closed his eyes and became motionless, it almost seemed like he fell in some sort of catatonic stupor, but, before his boss could react, his eyes were opened again. "Sweetie!"

It wasn't simply out of the blue, it made Revolver totally speechless as from behind a white curtain on the opposite to the window wall, from a passage hidden behind this curtain the one who responded to the call by appearing was a girl.

"My darling," Specter didn't look back over his shoulder like he knew that she was approaching, though Hanoi's leader was astonished at how soundlessly was she walking, no, it even seemed as if she was floating such an impression gave off her step, so airy and not a single tiny sound, heels were not clicking on the tiled floor.

As the girl stopped right next to Specter sitting in his chair Revolver had a chance to take a better look at her. This girl, this lovely creature of exceptional beauty as one might have thought, for some reason she awoke tingling anxiety in the depth of Hanoi's leader's heart. This creature had smooth white, almost porcelain skin that gave off a light bluish tint, there was even an illusion of the girl being kinda translucent and that she was glowing with mysterious pallid light from inside of her. Her hair was so black, like a crow's feathers, and long and curly it was braided with white ribbons in incredibly puffy twin-tails, large dark curles were framing her bloodless face breathtakingly beautifully.

"Honey," Specter's voice clearly sounded like that giving a command, "greet Revolver-sama."

The girl held the long bouffant skirt of her snow white dress, the dress that with lots of bows and ruffles seemed gothic victorian, and made a curtsy. Her full bright red, like blood, lips, by the way the only red thing in her monochromatic black-and-white appearance, curved in a modest smile. After she had bowed her head gracefully she glanced up at Revolver from beneath her fluffy carbon black eyelashes, having caused his heart stop for a moment.

" _A doll..?_ " he thought, staring right into those bottomless, like hellish pit, black eyes that were as if made of glass and reflected his own face as perfectly as a mirror.

"I'm sorry about her not saying "hello", sir," Specter gave the girl a quick look, and she immediately turned around and walked back into the passage behind the curtain in the wall, her step was again ghost-like and not even the bouffant skirt of her dress rustled. "I had to make her mute since her voice used to be so annoyingly bird-like."

"Mute, huh..?" Revolver kept on staring at the place where the girl had disappeared to, but then he quickly snapped out of it and sternly looked at his assistant, demanding immediate answers.

"I know, Revolver-sama," Specter started talking before his boss even managed to part his lips. "Excuse me. She's been here for a bit over a week now, but I never had an opportunity to notify you due to being too busy."

"Over a week?" Hanoi's leader honestly regretted that he could burn people alive with his eyes. "Now that you _do_ have enough of free time for tea would you care to explain yourself? Why the hell there is an intruder at our base? This isn't a fucking "entrance is free" zone!"

"Now-now," Specter unexpectedly laughed akin to a little kid as he waved his hand awkwardly, "calm down, sir. There is nothing to be alarmed about. That precious thing is just a mere doll of mine."

"Doll?" Revolver's indignation quickly changed into confusion as he remembered the girl's appearance.

"That's right," Specter nodded. "This is... kinda a long story, but would you be willing to listen?"

"I must know what the heck is going on right under my nose," Revolver huffed as he exaggeratedly carelessly leaned back in his chair, having thrown one leg over other and crossed his arms."

"Good," a sly smile, like one that could belong to a fox, appeared on his second-in-command's lips. "First of all, I can assure you, sir, that thing is not a threat in any way. In fact, she cannot even move a finger without me, thus, she wouldn't dare cause you any trouble. She simply has no will to do that."

"Will?" something suspicious prickled Revolver as his confusion started treacherously showing up on his face.

"Yes, _free will_ ," Specter leaned against the table and propped his cheek with his palm, his light blue eyes directed at his leader had the lingering, unblinking look of a snake trying to hypnotize its victim. "The main criteria which helps to tell living beings from... the dead."

"What do you imply?" Revolver slightly frowned as he didn't like those creeps that all of a sudden appeared all over his skin.

"Well," but Specter was talking so eerily slow and calm as if he were a professor telling a lecture. "I believe that you have heard of so-called "dead" accounts within Internet? By "dead" I mean those in various social networks, the accounts of people who had already passed away in the real world."

Revolver felt something extremely slimy crawling right under his skin as the pallid "doll" reappeared from behind the curtain and, as soundlessly as before, approached them as she carried a tray with a couple of small porcelain cups, a sugar-bowl, some sliced bread, butter on a sauser and another sauser with strawberry jam. As the "doll" walked up close enough Hanoi's leader barely held himself back from shuddering as he felt sepulchral chill hovering around this glassy-eyed mute creature.

"For example, this lovely thing," his assistant smiled sickeningly sweetly as she left the tray at the table and knelt next to the man, the bouffant skirt of her dress looked like a large snow white blooming flower around her curvy posture. As Specter was talking with this annoyingly suave smile of his he kept on lovingly petting the "doll's" puffy pitch black curles. "She used to be... a childhood friend of mine, we also were in the same class during middle school. A sweet canary that used to have that bird-like voice as she was lively chirping with her friends, vulgar bimbos that had the same cheap perfume and poor taste in clothes as her."

"Interesting kind of people you have as your friends..." having removed his mask, Revolver mumbled as he took a sip of his drink and grimaced slightly, black tea was too strong for his taste.

"To be honest," Specter's long fingers were caressing the "doll's" head, having seemingly lulled her to sleep as she put her head in his lap and closed her eyes, "even though she used to be my childhood friend she had been quite dismissive of me almost all the time... barely talking to me, avoiding me, constantly seeing other guys. One time when I tried to initiate a conversation with her, she just side-eyed me and then I heard her chirping with her bimbo friends about "that creep trying to hit on her". That wasn't very nice of her, but it's understandable. I was always notorious for my passion regarding different occult stuff. I was the one known as "the freak" in my class. But right now..."

The man grinned, and Revolver felt shivers ran down his spine as he thought that this expression, this half-insane glimmer in light blue eyes directed at the "doll" were somehow predatory.

"Fate happened to be a cruel thing," but his voice remained sinisterly tranquil. "This beautiful thing, unfortunately..." his hand reached down to her chest and as his fingers touched, having made her flinch so that Revolver almost thought she was "alive", a bright crimson bloom grew from where her heart was supposed to be. "Ah, bloody red _lycoris radiata_ or, as they are better known among people, spider lilies. Did you know, Revolver-sama? These exquisite flowers are considered to represent death in Japan and they are often planted on tombs and cemeteries. As for LINK VRAINS these are used as markers to note that an account is "dead" as its owner had perished IRL. SOL Technologies is very attentive to this sort of stuff, so "dead" accounts are being taken down almost immediately... but, luckily, I didn't need much time in order to intercept this avatar of my late friend so that she wouldn't have been deleted for good."

Specter took a pause to sip his tea and then, after having put the cup to the side, peacefully continued.

"It might sound weird, but I'm actually happy that everything turned out in such a way. I never had a chance with her back then. And since even though I'm into occultism but still law-abiding enough to not do some... peculiar stuff to satisfy my itch in real life, this is the best way possible," he chuckled sort of ominously. "It's like a real necromancy, only in VR."

"Necromancy..?" Revolver's body became numb from tension, this conversation grew less and less pleasant with each new word that was coming from his second-in-command as he tenderly lifted the "doll's" face by her chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Yes, sir," Specter never averted his gaze from his "doll" as he brushed her lower lip with his thumb, having caused those full bloody red lips to curve in a brief smile, but with her lackluster and empty eyes that smile looked plainly creepy. "Necromancy is a special branch of magic art that allows communication between the living and the dead. Alas, this kind of magic is forbidden in almost every religion and is considered highly immoral... though I personally find it to be the most fascinating thing ever, because the most powerful benefit of necromancy is the ability to bring the dead back to this world. Of course, I'm not a proficient necromancer and have no real-life experience because I'm not the type who would go so far as to desecreating graves, but I'm a hacker and was able to do something else instead."

The "doll" was sitting at Specter's feet completely motionless, and Revolver almost thought she wasn't breathing.

"She used to be a beginner duelist in LINK VRAINS," Hanoi's second-in command chuckled in a bit mocking tone. "But she died and, naturally, her avatar was left unattended. I managed to hack into her before SOL tried to delete her and took her in. This beautiful canary... she belongs to me now. This was truly an amusing experiment, a real necromantic ritual. I took this virtual "corpse" and brought her back to "life" by implanting some of my own will into her. In other words, she's only able to move because I'm remote controlling her. Heh, you can say I'm basically possessing her, like a ghost. Perfect justification for me being called "Specter", don't you agree?"

The man teasingly poked the "doll's" cheek and that made her slightly part her lips, but not a single sound was heard.

"Since she came under my full control," Specter caressed her "porcelain" smooth, deadly cold skin with the back of his index finger, "I was able to make certain "adjustments" to her. For example, I gave her this wonderful, elegant dress that would cost quite expensive IRL, I love its white color because it can be considered as both the color of a pure bride and also white traditionally symbolizes death in Japan... a perfect choice for a deceased bride, right? And these earrings, this bracelet and ring made of black onyx stones. Did you know that in Victorian epoch jet black jewelry was the only one allowed for women as they were mourning? And also this lovely thing's hair. It used to be bright golden, like a canary's feathers, but I changed it to black, I always thought she would have looked better as a brunette, besides, I'm a blonde myself and I find couples of two blondes to be not aesthetically pleasing. Oh, and one of the most important "adjustment", as I mentioned it before, was that I deprived her of that annoying bird-like voice. Women are much more perfect when they are silent."

"But..." Revolver was already beyond uncomfortable. "How in the world did she..?"

"How did she die? It was a mishap. As I heard," Specter took a knife and smeared some strawberry jam on a slice of bread, "when she was returning home one evening, some scoundrel stabbed her right in her heart. The culprit was never found, but I suspect it was a mugger, there are so many street criminals these days in Den City."

"Well, I suppose so..."

"Anyway," Revolver's assistant shrugged and took a bite of his bread with jam, "we always should look at the bright side, don't we? She is spared from all the filth of this morbid world, her soul is free and she won't be stained with any new sins."

"But her family... the people she loved and whom loved she," Hanoi's leader whispered, unexpectedly even for himself, as he was staring at his own reflection in the cup with now barely warm tea.

"Indeed, it's a tragedy when such bright and cheerful creatures wither away so early, but the God's will cannot be disputed."

Revolver made a sceptical face at this remark. 

A catholic-necromancer who is talking about the God's will  _and_ blatantly defines it by creating some sort of a deadly doll? 

"But this is virtuality," Specter's eyes met with his as if he possessed psychic powers and read his thoughts. "Practically anyone can be a god of his own universe in here. Like me who is absolutely happy right now with this sweet thing," he stroked the "doll‘s" hair. "She belongs to me now. It's not a big deal that she doesn't have a will of her own, to tell the truth, it's a benefit. I always hated that hypersensitive nerves of hers, the way she would lash out at me whenever I wanted to know her a little bit better. She used to tell me that my face was "ugly", but now she only has this very face to look at and nobody else won't ever fawn and pant over her beauty, pushing her into nasty sins. And, as for being beautiful, she can stay like this forever, virtual account cannot rot and decay. There is also no more impudence left in her, she won't have another bite of any forbidden fruit, she's now totally under love and care of her personal God... myself."

Revolver frowned as he lowered his gaze at the "doll's" unbothered, calm face.

" _Skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood... mind as dark as abyss that being held by the puppet master's strings. Snow White that probably has nothing left of her in the real world outside of ashes and no kiss will awaken her... she is stuck in this hell called virtuality. No personality, no thoughts or dreams... only her looks are here and even they are "adjusted" to her "God's" liking."_

"Hm? Are you going already, Revolver-sama?" Specter asked in completely relaxed way, watching his boss leaving his cup with unfinished drink on the table and putting his mask on.

"Yes," he got up from his chair and headed towards the exit.

"There must be some business you need to attend to, right? Pity. I wanted to have a chat with you for a little longer."

" _But I do not want, creep,_ " Revolver held himself back from grimacing.

"About the topic of necromancy," he couldn't see Specter's expression as he was facing him with his back but the change in the man's voice, from artificially friendly to coldly mysterious, made him even more tense. "We know that Ignises are AIs with free will, right? And I'm just curious, if a human's will can possess a "dead" virtual "body"... is it possible for an Ignis's will to possess a human's corpse? If it _is_ , couldn't we call it the great breakthrough in necromancy?"

Something unimaginable bursted, like a flame, inside Revolver's head, he felt his entire body being engulfed in that wild flame.

Artificial beings with free will which they shouldn't have in the first place possessing human's who had passed away? That is...

"Sacrilege!" the leader of the Knights of Hanoi roared before furiously shutting the door behind himself.

"Oh. I see your point," Specter said with absolutely straight face and then smiled nauseatingly sweetly. "Come have tea with me again, sir! Your such a marvelous interlocutor!"

The man chuckled, looking at the post-mortem afterimage of his "childhood friend".

"What an ignorant ram he is, isn't he, sweetie?" he lovingly kissed the top of her head.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to make Specter this catholic-necromancer because for the first I thought that his outfit kinda seemed like that of a priest and as for the latter, well, he is named "Specter" probably not without a reason. I also imagine him having some British origins and used Victorian epoch theme because I always found that era to be peculiar with their both puritan religious views and strange preoccupation with death existing at the same time.


End file.
